


I Just Can't Set You Free

by poppetawoppet



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a kiss that is not a kiss, like over the phone, when they are apart. Title from "Be My Lady" from BNS</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Can't Set You Free

It started as a joke. Well it seemed like a joke to everyone else. Kris was really good at making everyone look at the sun when they should have been looking at the clouds. That's what people underestimated about him sometimes. His ability to make you think one thing when the opposite was true. He was sneaky like that.

So when he stole Adam's beanie out of his suitcase and plopped it on his own head declaring that "It looks better on me anyway," everyone else rolled their eyes and laughed. Adam knew better.

"You just won the biggest singing contest in the country, Kris. You can buy your own hat."

"But you have like, three of them. And this one is yours."

There was a look in Kris's eyes that said something else, so Adam stepped forward, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"All right, what's up?"

Kris shrugged, and sighed. "I don't know. I just. I don't know."

"Kris—"

Kris looked at him then, bare to the world and Adam swallowed the smart remark on his tongue. Instead he pulled Kris close, knowing everyone else would just think it was one of their hugs.

"Kris," he whispered again, leaning his head on top of Kris's.

"I'm sorry. I thought I could stop it. I thought, I can't, I just need something to hold onto, you know?"

The words were muffled by Adam's chest and Adam could only nod.

"Yeah. I know." Adam instinctively rubbed his thumb, remembering the last time they had held a piece of each other. "What do you want to do about it?"

Kris stepped back, beanie in his hands. "I don't know."

*

They had toed the line that whole summer, never crossing it, well, except for the brief moment in New York when Kris had kissed him, fumbling apologies while still holding him tight. And Adam had held a little too long when it was all over, knowing he was letting something good go, something perfect.

But he couldn't keep him, because there would always be the conflict hanging over Kris. So it was better that Adam made the decision and walked away.

But then he saw the picture of Kris at the airport in Singapore? Malaysia? wearing the beanie, his face so lonely…

It was hard not to call, to tell him that someone was there for him. But Adam couldn't dial, just lean his head against the computer screen and pretend he was there, gathering Kris close and pressing his lips to Kris's forehead.

It was, as usual, never enough. Adam closed his eyes and tucked it away.

*

Adam knew he shouldn't have been looking for pictures, that it verged on desperate and creepy, but it was his only way of really knowing how Kris was doing, because over the phone (Adam had decided it was okay to call now) Kris had become guarded and secretive, merely saying he was "fine" or "okay". So Adam looked for pictures from concerts, videos to read Kris's body language.

It was a show in Florida, the one right after their concert together. (That had been very interesting. Kris was never alone in a room with Adam, and their hugs had been almost normal—not for them normal, but normal for other people. Adam would try and contemplate it, but the concert was over before he could, and Kris was flying to Florida and they never really got to talk about it. It almost made Adam miss tour, because then there had been nothing but time _to_ talk.)

But the picture said a lot to Adam. Kris was smiling, really smiling, and Cale—Cale!—was wearing a distinctly familiar beanie. Adam stared for a long time before he realized his fingers were already dialing.

"Mmmmhello? Adam?" Kris's voice was sleepy.

"He's wearing my hat."

"Oh."

There was a long silence and Adam could almost hear his heart beating.

"He took it from me. Said I didn't need it anymore."

"Oh."  
"Adam—"

"No. That's good. It's better this way. I'm glad."

"You idiot. It's just a damn hat."

"What?"

There was a pause, and then Kris spoke, his voice low. "You really think it would be that easy? Just because you walked away doesn't mean things changed for me. But I appreciate you trying."

"Kris—"

"Adam, just listen—"

There was a rustling noise, and for a minute, Adam heard nothing. Then it came, loud, fast and insistent. He closed his eyes and listened, waited as his own heart matched the beating miles away. Then he held the phone to his lips and pretended that there was a world where he could kiss the spot where Kris's phone lay, that there was a world where it was simple, that there was a world in which they could let each other go.


End file.
